


Plot Lines and Bunnies

by Slashy Goodness (allmadhere)



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-31
Updated: 2010-03-31
Packaged: 2017-10-08 13:19:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmadhere/pseuds/Slashy%20Goodness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another from anon_lovefest on LJ.</p><p>Prompt: What if Pete Wentz wrote for bandom?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plot Lines and Bunnies

Pete sat in front of his laptop, tapped in the password, and waited just a moment. The browser icon bouncing in the dock as soon as the OS had loaded prompted him to glance around. No one was there, of course no one was there. It was 4:47am according to the clock and normal people in this timezone were asleep. Even all the bands and crew were asleep. The chances of someone bothering him at this hour, even at the little kitchen table of the bus, were slim to none.

As soon as the plain white window popped up, he quickly typed in an address and pressed enter. He didn't even wait for the page to load before he opened another tab and typing in another address, then doing it all again until he had four windows open and loading. He went back to the first, a mail client he'd created just for this purpose, and opened one at random. It was the same as always, praise for how real they were and if there'd be more soon. It gave him such a rush, without fail and every time, like some kind of drug. Pete replied, like he always did, and made sure to use proper grammar and punctuation. The more distance between himself and Amanda Carver, the better. Amanda was his pseudonym. He'd been thorough in creating her, making her older than the average fangirl but not by too much, giving her a separate journal that updated about her "life". He'd thought of as much as possible and it seemed that the cover was solid. A few people had asked to meet Amanda, some even suggesting Fall Out Boy concerts as a highly ironic meeting spot. There was always something that came up or had been planned far in advance that made it impossible for Amanda to make it to the show and she always apologized profusely.

Pete blew through all his comments in minutes, most of them being fairly generic replies with a few longer and more involved ones to 'friends' he'd made as Amanda. He wasn't a king of words for nothing. The replies were all so well written and almost devoid of the metaphors he was known for. He felt more than secure enough to post his newest fic, at least once it was done.

It was PxP, like half the fics he wrote and it was, if he did say so himself, a charming tale about the early touring days of FOB with a twist: he'd told Patrick how much he loved his voice, loved the feeling of being wrapped in it whenever the other boy opened his mouth. Patrick had smiled shyly and blushed, pulling his hat down and, god, Pete could see it so vividly it was like it had happened! Patrick offered him something better, something so much better, and told him he'd get it after the show. Pete was left trembling in anticipation.

All through their set, he'd shot Patrick smoldering looks and his brushes of lips lingered longer than usual. Patrick ignored him for the most part, only acknowledging the touches when he was sure no one else could see and he would grind back into him and Pete would groan in frustration, his dick feeling like it might burst through his far to tight jeans. Finally finally finally, the show ended and Pete had practically slammed Patrick into the wall once they were off stage. He leaned, sucking on that spot just below his ear and not caring who saw, and--.

That was where Pete had stopped last time and he wasn't sure he could continue now. Sex had always been the hardest part of these fics to write. He knew the guys he wrote about, knew how each one felt about the fanfiction littering the internet. Ummm, hello, the "don't google yourself" shirt? He'd mentioned it himself. They kind of gave away how Gerard, Mikey, Gabe, William, Vicky-T, Matt, Andy, Joe, Patrick (oh, especially Patrick with that shy blush of his)... They were all just a little disturbed by the plethora of Harlequin-style romances and pure porn written about them and the members of their bands. He swallowed hard at the thought that one of them might discover his secret one day. His fingers hovered twitchingly over the keys and his phone buzzed across the table top loudly. One hand snatched out and grabbed it, pressing a button to open the newest text message.

_hurry up and write the damned thing. wanna know if i blow you and how._

He read it a few times over then read it again. No, see, that wasn't right and this was obviously a prank of some kind. Obviously. Patrick did not send sexy messages that said he knew Pete was writing a fair amount of fics about them. But there was Patrick's name so unless he'd had his phone stolen recently... A quick question would work best here.

_?_

The explanation came back quickly and Pete could almost hear the exasperated sigh behind the words. A little smile graced his features as he heard it in his head, felt it in his skin.

_ur pwords far too easy. i've read them all. finish this one._

Pete's breath caught in his throat. This couldn't be just a prank, it went too far. What else could he do but roll with it? Maybe he'd get to live out a certain fantasy of sex with one of his best friends.

_no insp. hlp?_

_fine. tomorrow. now go sleep._

Pete snapped his phone and laptop shut quickly and scurried off to bed. Though, he thought as he slid beneath the sheets, this wouldn't be a bad plot for another fic...


End file.
